


Wishful Thinking

by SpiralCreator



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Djinni & Genies, High School, M/M, Magic, Wishes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 13:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12771855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiralCreator/pseuds/SpiralCreator
Summary: Shizuo stumbles across a magical lamp and now he has to deal with the irritating genie that comes along with it. Trying to go to school with a genie riding in your pocket has some drawbacks, but at least Shizuo gets some wishes as a consolation.





	Wishful Thinking

It was not his fault. It never was. Yet he was always blamed. Always punished. Always ridiculed. Always hated.

Always called a monster.

Shizuo lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair while letting out an exhale. Today was as tiring as yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that. It was always something. 

This morning, a group of students that he did not recognize decided it would be a good idea to challenge him. Although he always minded his own business, hated violence, and longed for a calm existence, the universe decided to be cruel. Exceedingly so. Even after explicating that he did not wish to fight, the teenagers still attacked him. Forced to defend himself, Shizuo ‘implemented aggressive action’ against the adolescents and sent most, if not all, to the infirmary.

This course of action did not sit well with his classmates, the teachers, nor his principal. A surplus of complaints prompted the principal into summoning Shizuo to his office. During their meeting of sorts, the principal—who tried very hard not to appear intimidated—asked Shizuo to give him one good reason why she should not suspend or expel the troubled teenager prone to violence.

Shizuo drew a blank.

It was not as if Shizuo had a future anyway—his grades were average, sometimes below, he had little to no friends, and all he did was bring destruction wherever he went. He was a disappointment to his family and possessed no redeeming qualities. He only upset his mother and brother by having a poor temperament and being a financial encumbrance.

As punishment, rather than suspension or expulsion, Shizuo would be forced to do small tasks here and there. His first chore would be to clean the school attic and clear it of old boxes. Deciding not to spare any time, he began doing so immediately after school.

* * *

As Shizuo crossed into the attic, darkness engulfed even his silhouette. The dollar store flashlight he was given by the janitor illuminated the messy room: books scattered, antique furniture inches deep in dust, old paintings, and cobweb-covered walls. Upon the first step inside, the floorboards creaked and something smashed to the ground; it must have been an object falling off one of the many packed up boxes. Something comparable to claustrophobia washed over him from head to toe. The beams above were creaking even as the gentlest gust of wind blew. Every moment he spent in the room seemed to be a temptation for the beams to collapse.

Why the school even possessed such a location was beyond him—all he knew was that the room was off-putting. Exceedingly so.

Shizuo let out what must have been his tenth sigh in a single minute, venturing further into the attic. To rid of all of these old boxes seemed to be an impossible task—one that would take up all of his afternoon and even longer. The room was cramped and cramping, dusted in dust, and darker than dark. Each of these factors only added to his frustration.

Shaking his head in discontent, Shizuo began rearranging the boxes in a way that would make it easier to move them out of the attic. After repeating this process for a couple of minutes, he stumbled upon an oddly shaped object that was completely covered in dust; it must have been what had fallen earlier. Deciding that it was unimportant, he merely kicked it to the side and continued working.

* * *

Once all of the boxes were finally rearranged, which took about an hour, he prepared himself to begin moving them out of the attic a couple at a time. As he motioned to pick up the first box, however, his foot landed upon the object he had kicked away earlier and, off-balanced, he stumbled and fell.

“Fuck,” he cursed out of annoyance rather than pain.

Shizuo sat up and dusted himself up before glaring at the object that had made him fall. Even though every bone in his body was instructing him to destroy said object, he decided to first figure out what it was.

After bending towards it to pick it up, he brushed off the dust and began analyzing it. His eyes only managed to catch that it was a gold oil lamp of some sort before the lamp began to shake violently. Grayish smoke began erupting from its nozzle, clouding his vision as he dropped the golden object from shock. As a natural response, Shizuo started coughing and waving his hand to disperse the clouds. Once the smoke was mostly gone, Shizuo rubbed his eyes.

Unbelievable.

Shizuo rubbed his eyes again, just in case he was imagining things. The lamp was still there, lying on the floor, still a bit dusty, but normal. The smoke was completely gone, so he was certain his vision was not being distorted. So then why…? 

Why was there a weirdly-dressed, scrawny person standing in front of him?

The young man standing in front of him had short, black hair (normal), striking russet eyes (not-so normal), a smirk (normal, but irritating), and flashy Arabian(?) clothing (definitely not normal). 

Had this person arrived while the smoke permeated the room? Shizuo did not hear anyone climb up the stairs and he was sure he definitely would have heard the wood squeaking. So then how…?

“Hello, finder,” the odd stranger greeted before Shizuo had the chance to say anything. Realizing that he was still sitting on the floor, Shizuo stood up immediately.

“Who are you?” Shizuo questioned more shakily than he would have liked. Something told him that this person was not to be trusted and this made him even more apprehensive.

“I am Izaya Orihara: a legendary genie and a granter of wishes, but of course, you know this, don’t you? You rubbed my lamp after all.”

Shizuo glanced at the lamp still on the floor and let out a snort, evidently not believing the supposed genie. This was some elaborate prank and Shizuo refused to fall for it. There was no way that ‘Izaya’ was an actual genie. Crazy things like this only happened in stories and such.

“No, I didn’t know. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish clearing this attic,” Shizuo harshly responded, pushing past the prankster. Izaya turned around with an incredulous look on his face. 

“You… accidentally stumbled upon my lamp?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Shizuo confirmed with a shrug. Izaya’s expression turned to bitter before pensive.

“Alright, since it is clear that you don’t believe me, why don’t you make a wish? Then I can prove that what I am saying is true.” Izaya crossed his arms, challenging him.

Shizuo rolled his eyes, but decided to humor the genie.

“Fine, I wish the attic was cleared and cleaned. Good luck with th—” Shizuo was cut off by Izaya snapping his fingers. After another puff of smoke (and some more coughing), Shizuo’s eyes widened. They were still in the attic, but all of the old boxes were gone. Not a bit of dust was to be seen and all of the shelves were organized. The attic even fucking _sparkled_. “How did you—”

“I am genie, remember?” Izaya cut him off once again. Shizuo opened his mouth to respond, but closed it after having nothing to say. Was he really a genie? But how? And did that mean Shizuo could wish for anything he wanted? Perhaps it would be best to ask for a genie rulebook or something.

“Uh, so… do I get more wishes?” Shizuo inquired finally.

“Twelve more.”

“ _Twelve whole wishes_?”

“Twelve,” Izaya affirmed. “You’re not very bright, are you?”

“Hey, wait a min—”

“How about I just tell you the rules, so you don’t have to keep asking questions?” Izaya suggested, a bit annoyed. Shizuo found himself a bit annoyed as well. If Izaya was going to keep cutting him off, he was not sure he wanted him around.

“Fine,” Shizuo relented anyway.

“Allow me to reiterate: I am Izaya Orihara, a _legendary_ , high-class genie. That means I can grant you a great deal of wishes. Thirteen, but you already used one up.” He gestured towards the now-clean attic. “My lamp was highly sought after, so how you managed to find it is beyond me. Even so, you are the ‘finder’ and I must grant whatever you wish for; however, you may not ask to me to kill or revive anyone. Though I can assist you in covering up a murder.”

“What the fu—”

“I didn’t finish. I also can’t make people fall in love with you, grow to hate you, or be indifferent to you. That wouldn’t be fun. Oh, and an obvious one: _don’t wish for more wishes_. Aside from that, you can have anything you want: fame, riches, immortality…”

“A normal life?” Shizuo asked before he could stop himself. In response, Izaya blinked curiously.

“You could have anything that you want and you would like… a normal life?” Shizuo rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, realizing how unimaginative and idiotic his wish sounded.

“Well, uh, I’m not entirely sure that’s what I want yet,” Shizuo muttered. “Do I have to make my wishes right away?”

“Nope! You have all of your life span to make your wishes,” the genie reassured. “Would you like to think it over first?” Shizuo nodded in approval.

“Uh, so are you going to follow me around or something until I make my wishes?” Shizuo wondered how he would explain an oddly dressed person following him around. Now that he thought about it, Izaya looked rather young. How old was this genie exactly?

“Don’t worry, finder! We can work it out. For now…” Izaya hummed before snapping his fingers at an epiphany. “Why don’t I just ride around in your pocket? Then you can whisper your wishes to me.”

“I don’t think you’ll fit…” Shizuo began, but was silenced by another snap and puff of smoke. Before him, there was now a smaller version of the genie stretching his arms up, indicating that he wanted to be picked up. 

This situation was too surreal. 

Shizuo bent down and picked up Izaya who was now no bigger than Shizuo’s hand.

“Now place me in your jacket pocket,” Izaya instructed. And Shizuo did so. At this, Izaya’s grin widened. “By the way, I never got your name, finder.”

“It’s Shizuo Heywajima…”

“I think I’ll call you Shizu-chan.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no words. I just. Well. I am sorry for not updating my other stories. I have been busy, but now that I am free, I will get on that. Anyway, thank you for reading. I really love comments, by the way.


End file.
